There are no words to describe the most horrible ache of missing your child. 11 months have passed like a breath. The boys and I have done so much this year. I think I have been trying to live for Jake in every outing, trip and gathering. I want so much for him to be able to experience this all with us. My mind refuses to accept the reality of death, instead I see him, as I believe he is, ALIVE. So very much alive, but just barely out of reach and just out of sight. Like he is waiting off stage for his next scene.
So, I sit on the floor in the kitchen, once again overcome with the most horrific ache that I fear will never fully leave until I see him again. I don't want to keep breathing and yet I continue to draw breathe. Everything feels so fucking hard and nothing, at least at this moment, feels easy. I want so badly for the pain to end, but at the same time I couldn't bear to not feel this because that might mean I've forgotten. I wish someone could take it for just a few minutes, but it's mine alone to bear. I would not wish this on anyone.
I feel naked and cut open, it might as well have been just 3 hours ago that he left instead it's 11 months, 3 hours and about 30 mins. O God I miss him!
Not everyday is like this. This morning I started off the day like it was any other day, but it's not...
Tuesday, December 29, 2015
Sunday, December 13, 2015
O Come, O Come Emmanuel
On what must have been the most spectacular starry night in all of history, a multitude of angels appeared to a handful of humble shepherds and over whelmed them with glory as they proclaimed, " Peace on earth and good will to men." Some thirty years later, Jesus, his eyes fixed on the cross, gathered his disciples for what would be his last instructions to them before his betrayal and ultimately his death. In a quiet, candle-lit upper room he tells them as much as he knows they can bear about what is about to happen, knowing they haven't got a clue at that moment. He concludes it all by saying, "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)
That is not the typical cheerful, baby Jesus, Christmas message we often hear, but sometimes Christmas sucks! Sometimes the holidays are just another horrible and painful reminder that life is hard and full of trouble. I know I am not the only one feeling that way this Chritmas and as I was about to post a picture with those words attached to a simple Facebook post, I realized it was more than a simple post and felt another blog entry coming.
It's Christmas, well really it's Advent. That time on the church calendar after All Saints Day and before Christmas Eve, more or less anyway, I am by no means an expert. The season of advent has always been my favorite because it's also the time of year that we reflect on looking forward to Christ's second coming. Which even before Jake left, was my favorite thing to talk about at church and Bible study. It's a time we reflect on the longing and expectation of God's people before the very first Chritmas and Christ's first advent, coming, and when He will come again at His second advent. It's a season of rich tradition in the church I grew up in with advent wreaths and candles. Chrismon's on the tree at church and weekly soup suppers before mid-week Advent service. Also my favorite Christmas song, "O Come, O Come Emmanuel." I have beautiful, rich memories of singing it over the years, in both public and private worship.
Susan and I were talking the other day and joking or rather trying to make light of the aweful circumstances of the last year for each of us. She joked that perhaps she somehow missed Joseph's personal instructions for storing up provisions in their 7 years of plenty for their now mid seven years of lean ( Genesis 41-43) and I joked that I felt as if I was enduring my own personal desert exile (Exodus 15-Joshua 3). We joke and make light, but it truely has been aweful. I would really like to be able to write about it more. Writing helps, blogging helps a lot. It makes a difference knowing that my story is helping other people and touching other people's lives. It helps me too, to read other people's stories because in their struggle I know I am not alone.
The last 48 hours have been a nightmare, but I can't tell you why. I live in a suburb of Houston that occupies a sliver of land bordered on two sides by a river, feeding into a lake that creates a natural boundary. We have 2 main roads in and out connecting to the highway the creates the third side of our community. Most people who live here joke that we live in a little bubble. If you don't know someone, you probably know someone who does. It's a small town! After being a part of the community for more than 16 years now, it feels even smaller. That was a beautiful gift in the days immmeditely following Jake's death. The rally of support from the community was amazing! That being said it makes it impossible for me to write about some of the more personal events in our lives. I don't have the protection of aminimity. The last 48 hours have been pretty bad, but for the sake of those involved I remain silent on the details. I know, however, that I am not alone because in the last month alone, I have seen various other people in my life experience job-loss, miscarriage, a marriage coming to an end, the death of a 6-week old baby to SIDS, car accidents, personal failures, the anniversaries of death, illness and hospital admissions...I'm sure the list could go on.
Honestly, I would like nothing more than to lay in bed, with the covers over my head until it all goes away. I was bearly holding it all together just dealing with this being the first Christmas without Jake and the first anniversary looming so close. So once again I find myself crying out, "how am I suppose to do this!?!" Along with a string of other not so nice words...
And so I hear again, " in this world you will have trouble..." To be perfectly honest I'd really like to say, could I please check that one off the list of lessons learned, God? Okay! I get it!! Instead I find myself, in the wee hours of the morning, pressing in once again. Trying hard to understand, trying to allow God to work and explain. Trying hard to find something to hang onto...
Once again I find myself staring at the words from John 16:33, but this time my eyes drawn to the beginning of the verse, I somehow missed before. Jesus said, "I have told you these things so that IN ME you may have peace (because) in this world you will have trouble..." And elsewhere in John, I feel God pointing out, "The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life (John12:25). As well the words of John 16:20-22, "...you will weep and mourn...you will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world. So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice and no one will take away you joy."
So I sit and listen as wind and rain batter against my window, seeming to match the storms of my last couple days. Pushing in, an odd peace surrounds me as I hear the voice of my most beloved friend speaking those words personalized for me..."sweet friend, you will weep and mourn; you will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; you know full well and you have seen it with your own eyes, that when her baby is born she forgets immediately the anguish because of her joy at seeing her baby placed on her chest. Her tears of anguish turn at once to tears of joy! And so it is with you: now is the time of your grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice and no one will be able to take away your joy."
And once again my heart swells and I can sing, O Come, O Come Emmanuel
That is not the typical cheerful, baby Jesus, Christmas message we often hear, but sometimes Christmas sucks! Sometimes the holidays are just another horrible and painful reminder that life is hard and full of trouble. I know I am not the only one feeling that way this Chritmas and as I was about to post a picture with those words attached to a simple Facebook post, I realized it was more than a simple post and felt another blog entry coming.
It's Christmas, well really it's Advent. That time on the church calendar after All Saints Day and before Christmas Eve, more or less anyway, I am by no means an expert. The season of advent has always been my favorite because it's also the time of year that we reflect on looking forward to Christ's second coming. Which even before Jake left, was my favorite thing to talk about at church and Bible study. It's a time we reflect on the longing and expectation of God's people before the very first Chritmas and Christ's first advent, coming, and when He will come again at His second advent. It's a season of rich tradition in the church I grew up in with advent wreaths and candles. Chrismon's on the tree at church and weekly soup suppers before mid-week Advent service. Also my favorite Christmas song, "O Come, O Come Emmanuel." I have beautiful, rich memories of singing it over the years, in both public and private worship.
Susan and I were talking the other day and joking or rather trying to make light of the aweful circumstances of the last year for each of us. She joked that perhaps she somehow missed Joseph's personal instructions for storing up provisions in their 7 years of plenty for their now mid seven years of lean ( Genesis 41-43) and I joked that I felt as if I was enduring my own personal desert exile (Exodus 15-Joshua 3). We joke and make light, but it truely has been aweful. I would really like to be able to write about it more. Writing helps, blogging helps a lot. It makes a difference knowing that my story is helping other people and touching other people's lives. It helps me too, to read other people's stories because in their struggle I know I am not alone.
The last 48 hours have been a nightmare, but I can't tell you why. I live in a suburb of Houston that occupies a sliver of land bordered on two sides by a river, feeding into a lake that creates a natural boundary. We have 2 main roads in and out connecting to the highway the creates the third side of our community. Most people who live here joke that we live in a little bubble. If you don't know someone, you probably know someone who does. It's a small town! After being a part of the community for more than 16 years now, it feels even smaller. That was a beautiful gift in the days immmeditely following Jake's death. The rally of support from the community was amazing! That being said it makes it impossible for me to write about some of the more personal events in our lives. I don't have the protection of aminimity. The last 48 hours have been pretty bad, but for the sake of those involved I remain silent on the details. I know, however, that I am not alone because in the last month alone, I have seen various other people in my life experience job-loss, miscarriage, a marriage coming to an end, the death of a 6-week old baby to SIDS, car accidents, personal failures, the anniversaries of death, illness and hospital admissions...I'm sure the list could go on.
Honestly, I would like nothing more than to lay in bed, with the covers over my head until it all goes away. I was bearly holding it all together just dealing with this being the first Christmas without Jake and the first anniversary looming so close. So once again I find myself crying out, "how am I suppose to do this!?!" Along with a string of other not so nice words...
And so I hear again, " in this world you will have trouble..." To be perfectly honest I'd really like to say, could I please check that one off the list of lessons learned, God? Okay! I get it!! Instead I find myself, in the wee hours of the morning, pressing in once again. Trying hard to understand, trying to allow God to work and explain. Trying hard to find something to hang onto...
Once again I find myself staring at the words from John 16:33, but this time my eyes drawn to the beginning of the verse, I somehow missed before. Jesus said, "I have told you these things so that IN ME you may have peace (because) in this world you will have trouble..." And elsewhere in John, I feel God pointing out, "The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life (John12:25). As well the words of John 16:20-22, "...you will weep and mourn...you will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world. So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice and no one will take away you joy."
So I sit and listen as wind and rain batter against my window, seeming to match the storms of my last couple days. Pushing in, an odd peace surrounds me as I hear the voice of my most beloved friend speaking those words personalized for me..."sweet friend, you will weep and mourn; you will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; you know full well and you have seen it with your own eyes, that when her baby is born she forgets immediately the anguish because of her joy at seeing her baby placed on her chest. Her tears of anguish turn at once to tears of joy! And so it is with you: now is the time of your grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice and no one will be able to take away your joy."
And once again my heart swells and I can sing, O Come, O Come Emmanuel
Tuesday, December 8, 2015
It's Different
This past weekend we were invited
over to our close family friend’s house to decorate Christmas cookies and
gingerbread houses. It's one of their traditions and last year Jake and Zach
spent that day with them, so this year they invited me and the three boys to
join them. Nate was invited over to his friend’s house to hang out, play
basketball and go to a movie. I can't imagine any 11 year old boy who wouldn't
have chosen the same when faced with the option of decorating over basketball
and a movie, so we were minus one...well minus two.
Our gingerbread houses were the
pre-baked, assemble yourself kind. All except for Zach, who claimed the
pre-assembled house and started decorating. The rest of us began the arduous
process of getting the house assembled with nothing but frosting. I had been
looking at Pinterest for days coming up with a plan and used three kits to make
a mansion of a gingerbread house. It took about 45 mins for us to abandon the
self-assembled house for the kids. They had them about a quarter to half
decorated and one by one they all fell. My mansion was coming together well, so
a paused in my decorating and ran to the grocery store for three more
pre-assembled houses for the kids and a few more items for the mansion.
Another hour of work and all the
houses looked fantastic. The winners determined, we began photographing our work.
One by one we lined them up with the creator proudly standing behind their
masterpiece. Then as a final photo we lined them all up for a group shot. My
girlfriend's husband was called in from outside light-decorating to snap the
group shot and as we were waiting for him, I noticed the center section of the
mansion roof slowly sagging and beginning to cave it. We frantically posed for
the picture, trying to capture the moment before it fell. The final moments of
the mansions demise capture forever in our picture with "please
hurry" smiles plastered to our faces. It was truly a priceless
moment, which my girlfriend joked would become a blog piece for sure!!
 |
| Yep...didn't snap the picture quite fast enough |
Nothing has worked out quite
right this year, despite our efforts to make things as normal as possible. Even
making those gingerbread houses was bittersweet and terribly hard. Zach and
Morgan, my friend’s oldest daughter, had a rough time. I think we were all
going through the motions. If not for the awesome comic relief of toppling
roofs, I think we would have had a much different feeling leaving that day.
Thank God for falling roofs and laughter.
Pie is usually my major
contribution for Thanksgiving. Jake used to say my apple pie was like heaven on
a plate. It was hard making it this year, but NOT making it would have been
even harder. I had to work a full day on Wednesday, when I normally would have
made pie, so I started the process that night and figure I would finish in the
morning and have it ready fresh out of the oven the next afternoon. Because the
apples were going to sit in the refrigerator overnight, I used a squeeze of
lemon on them to help prevent browning. I must have over done it or something
else went horribly wrong because the pie was terrible this year!! It was
embarrassing how bad it tasted. Not heaven on a plate by any stretch of
imagination!
Thanksgiving in general was
difficult. It was the boys’ year to be with their dad, which meant I was most
likely going to be alone. As it turned out, Ray (my boyfriend of now a year and
a half) was able to spend most of the day with me and Zach wanted to stay home.
Thanksgiving morning there was a 5K Turkey Trot in our community hosted
by another family who has recently lost their youngest to cancer. Jake and
their daughter had been in church and school together since about kindergarten
and Ben is friends with many of the kids who started the organization hosting
the event. Honestly the thought of our first Thanksgiving without Jake
was very overwhelming and the thought of spending the morning with another
family who understood that sounded oddly comforting. I underestimated,
however the impact of it being so many people from the old church and when we
arrived that morning I felt very out of place and uncomfortable. To add insult
to injury, Zach, Ray and I had a very tense encounter with one of the leaders
from the old church. He came over and hugged the friend I was standing with,
looked with distain at Zach, Ray and I and then turned and walked away without
saying a word. I think my friend was embarrassed by his behavior and I was hurt
to say the least. The morning wasn't quite what I had hoped but we finished the
race running and it was nice to see and hug another mom who really does
understand.
Our house is decorated. The tree
is up. Christmas has begun, but nothing is quite right. None of it. The boys
and I decided to get away for Christmas this year. I had been a little worried
that maybe we should stay here and do our normal things, but as time goes on,
I'm so glad we decided to change things up. We need it to be different because
it IS different. Nothing is quite right and it never will be again and denying
that and pushing through can only carry us so far.
The countdown has begun to the
one year anniversary. I felt it right away in November, but the boys are
feeling it now to. They don't verbalized it, but they are not making it though
the school days well again and we are back to sleepless nights once more.
Unfortunately our last memories of Jake are of doing Christmas and New
Year’s things. It's as if every activity has a "this time last year"
attached to it. This time last year everything was still okay. He was here
decorating gingerbread houses and hanging out with friends. Making THE hottest
enchilada sauce I have ever tasted and getting ready to get his drivers permit.
This time last year... it's the last time we will be able to say that.
From here on out our memories and photos move on without him. He forever 15,
when Ben and Nate were still shorter than me with round, baby faces. The
countdown has begun and yet in the midst of that we are still
able to enjoy new memories and laugh and for that I am thankful!
Christmas is very different but it's still Christmas.
I'm praying for snow on our vacation, enough to be able to go sledding and maybe build a snowman. The boys have never seen anything more than Texas snow and that hardly counts. I'm looking forward to our different Christmas and thankful we are able to get away. I'm thankful for friends who invite us into their traditions and cards and encouraging comments, they really do help and mean a lot. I'm thankful for all the prayers...we still need them. In fact if you feel so lead please pray for the boys, for their teachers to be understanding, for clear thought and super natural wisdom during finals. Pray for safe travel, for moments of laughter and joy in the weeks to come, and for snow.
I'm praying for snow on our vacation, enough to be able to go sledding and maybe build a snowman. The boys have never seen anything more than Texas snow and that hardly counts. I'm looking forward to our different Christmas and thankful we are able to get away. I'm thankful for friends who invite us into their traditions and cards and encouraging comments, they really do help and mean a lot. I'm thankful for all the prayers...we still need them. In fact if you feel so lead please pray for the boys, for their teachers to be understanding, for clear thought and super natural wisdom during finals. Pray for safe travel, for moments of laughter and joy in the weeks to come, and for snow.
 |
| My mansion before it's untimely demise |
Sunday, December 6, 2015
I'm Okay, Just Busy...
I haven't been able to write in a
while. Not just for the blog, but even in my personal journal. I have been
super busy. Busy with the new job, busy with the boys schedule, just busy!
Several people told me early on after Jake died that I needed to stay
busy. Actually they didn't tell me that directly, but that was a prevailing
theme in reading between lines and comments made to those close to me.
"She just needs to get back to work, that will really help."
And to some degree it has. The busy doesn't leave time in the day to sit
and cry and the busy mixed with grief makes me drop into bed every night
exhausted...hence not much time for writing.
People are uncomfortable with
grief. There is no immediate fix so they don't know what to say. Getting
back to work and keeping busy is comfortable because then you have
"normal" things to talk about. That way when someone asks,
"How's everything going?" you can give the "normal"
response of, "oh, it's okay, just busy!"
What becomes challenging with that is that nothing is quite
normal and glossing over the huge gaping hole of grief doesn't make it go away.
It's doubly hard when you get busy. There is this tension between needing to
participate in life and also leaving time to heal.
Disclaimer for those of you who
are squeamish about medical type things, I am a nurse and we talk about
disgusting things over lunch, so forgive me. The weekend before Jake
died, I went alone on a hike at one of the state parks near our house. I had a
very peaceful walk and spent time journaling and talking to God. I actually
wrote a poem that day which I had no way of knowing would foreshadow the events
about to unfold in my life. Somewhere along that walk I got a small splinter in
my foot. That splinter bothered me for a couple months before I realized
it was not a splinter but a planter wart. By the time I made the realization, I
was without health insurance and decided to just use over the counter methods
to treat it on my own. By October it was causing quite a bit of pain and I
decided I should probably just get it taken care of, so I made the appointment
and went in. Because I had let it go so long, the root was deep and the hole
made to remove it was quite deep. Being the self-treating nurse that I am, I
carefully took care of my foot and the hole to make sure I kept it clean. It
healed nicely, from my observation, but at about a month, the pain was still
there and I worried that perhaps the wart was coming back. The pain was so bad
I was having a hard time taking my shoe on and off, so once again, instead of
heading straight to the doctor, began the process of self-diagnosis. The hole had
scabbed over and looked to me like healthy skin, but it was tender to touch and
slightly swollen. I soaked my foot in hot water, probed a little deeper and
found that under a thin film of new skin, was infection. I'll spare you the
details, but after another week of careful tending and a follow-up doctor
appointment, my foot is much better. Although the outside of my foot
looked healed the inside was still doing it's healing work and needed a hole
still present to release the excess fluid cells produce when they are in the
healing mode.
Being busy is good. And God has
blessed me with people who have allowed me to be a mess of grief in their
presence. I still need to be a mess every once in a while. I'm still
doing the healing work of grief and that looks messy sometimes. As the calendar
turned to November I felt like I was seeing a train wreak coming from a
distance. Having Thanksgiving, Christmas and the one year anniversary all so
close together is very overwhelming! Also my life is not pretty. It's not
always easy to filter out conflicts with my ex-husband and his family or the
hurts from having my old church family no longer welcomes me. I find it
challenging to write, knowing things may be painful to hear, but in order to do
this healing work I need to release those things occasionally. I hope in doing
so every so often, it may help me in my healing, but also help others who may
have messy issues mixed with grief in their own lives. So going forward, please
forgive me if there are times when it's hard to read or feels uncomfortable, I
really don't intend to hurt anyone.
I'll end this post with the poem
God inspired me to write the Sunday before Jake left...
Stillness fills my soulSounds of creation break my solitude,
if only for a moment, reminders
I am not alone
Sunshine surrounds me like a comfy blanket,
warming my spirit
Though death and decay leave behind
their undeniable mark, life abounds
And the promise of Spring
(1/25/15)
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